


Our scars remind us that the past is real

by TurtleTotem



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, F/F, Post-Canon, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem
Summary: She-Ra heals much faster than normal people. Not better, just faster.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 134





	Our scars remind us that the past is real

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr [here](https://turtletotem.tumblr.com/post/635803783873560576/our-scars-remind-us-that-the-past-is-real).

Adora is covered in scars.

Catra hadn’t expected that. She-Ra heals almost instantly, doesn’t she? You generally have to drop a tank on her to even slow her down. She can be hurt, yes, but it’s temporary.

She hadn’t realized that healing quickly wasn’t the same as healing well.

“As far as we can tell, she heals exactly like anyone else. Just faster,” Bow says, quiet and gentle, when he catches Catra staring at Adora’s mostly-exposed back on the sparring field. “Still hurts. Still takes a lot out of her. Still leaves scars.”

“I didn’t realize,” Catra murmurs.

“Would it have mattered?” From Bow, the question isn’t caustic, but genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Catra whispers. She’d hurt Adora on purpose, so many times, and felt free to do it without remorse because there were no consequences. It had felt like having her cake and eating it too — causing pain without any real damage. And that had never actually been true.

Of course it hadn’t been true anyway, even if she’d been right about the healing. There was nothing okay about gleefully hurting someone she loved. Catra thinks she might have realized that sooner, if she’d known the truth. It might have mattered.

She hopes it would have.

“Are you gonna fight me or just flap your jaws?” Adora yells, spinning a staff in her hand. Catra smiles and shakes it off, running at Adora with a roar and crashing their staffs together.

Late that night, Catra catalogues every scar, tracing them with fingertips as tender as if the wounds were fresh.

“You don’t have to apologize, love,” Adora says. “You’re not even responsible for most of them.”

“Yes, I am.”

Adora sighs. “You want to make it up to me?”

“Yes.”

She smiles slyly. “Kiss it better.”

So Catra does.

And later, when Adora has drifted off to sleep, sweaty and smiling, Catra stays awake. She brushes a last feather-light kiss against the old claw-marks on Adora’s cheek, and silently promises them that nothing will ever hurt Adora again as long as Catra’s alive.


End file.
